Love is a Funny Thing
by BrownEyedGirl93
Summary: Massie is now in high school, and crushed over her breakup with Derrick Harrington. Will she ever find a new funny guy who might make her a better person? MassiexOC, slight Massington. Humor, friendship, romance.
1. Welcome to sophomore year

**A/N: Hey, so I was just watching **_**That 70's Show**_** and thinking about how alike Massie and Jackie are. Then it hit me—Massie could really use a guy like wisecracker Hyde to make her less shallow, bitchy, and annoying. Harsh, I know. I actually used to be a huge Massington fan, but now I feel like she needs someone new. And Landon doesn't work either; he's too much like her.**

**So, I experimented with some characterization techniques, blended a few characters together, and created the perfect guy for Massie—who also happens to be the complete opposite of her.**

**Enjoy!**

**P.S. In this story, I'm going to pretend they go to a co-ed high school.**

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**BOCD High**

**September 3****rd**

**9:25 a.m.**

"…And that's probably the kinkiest thing I ever did with a guy. Definitely in my top ten," Alicia Rivera smirked devilishly.

Opening her locker, Massie Block sighed and rolled her eyes. Ever since high school started, her best friend Alicia had gotten a bit slutty. And now that they were sophomores (this was their first day), it seemed like she was going for the reputation of full-blown whore. Then again, maybe she had just spent a little too much time with those freaky Spanish cousins of hers over the summer.

Massie bit her lip, trying to think of one of her famous snappy one-liners the spot. _Are you obsessed with baked goods? Then why are you acting like a Ho-Ho? No, too obvious. Are you Paris Hilton? Oh no, wait, I got the perfect one!_ "Alicia, do you live on the Jersey Shore?"

"I'd like to!" she chirped. Massie sucked in her lips, trying not to laugh at the way she said that. She wasn't about to give Alicia the satisfaction. By now, Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan were starting to find ways around her signature comebacks. Claire was the only one who still humored her, and that made her feel like she was losing her alpha-ness. Her jokes were funny, weren't they?

Massie checked her reflection in her compact mirror. Her lips were full and glossy, her makeup was perfect, and her True Religion Julie in Vigilante dark wash skinny jeans and purple halter top had gotten her a 9.7 morning rating. Massie loved feeling like this, confident and super chic.

She slammed her locker shut and started walking with Alicia, zoning out as she chattered on about her latest fling in Spain. It wasn't like she really cared what Alicia did with her time, it just bugged her that she had more experience with guys than her. Besides that, Massie was kinda glad she'd become the slutty one of the group. Now, no matter what Massie did, it wouldn't look that bad in comparison. Plus, Alicia had become a great target for dirty jokes.

"Yeah, I gotta get my class, it's right down this hallway," Massie interrupted. Alicia had somehow managed to go from talking about a boy she'd met in Spain to how good Kemp Hurley's ass looked.

"Oh, okay. See ya!" Alicia slow-walked away, trying to remember where Dylan's new locker was. Massie glanced down at her schedule. _Room B21, Sociology, Mr. Raker_. As she walked through the door, her eyes caught a flash of dirty blond hair. Derrick Harrington was already up on a chair, shaking his board shorts and boxer-clad butt much to the delight of Kemp Hurley and some other guys. She sighed almost smiled. Some things never changed. Normally, she would've shot them some clever comeback about how they were so excited to see each other's asses, but watching the boys goof off, she felt her stomach knot up, and she knew she couldn't do it.

Massie and Derrick had been going out on and off through middle school and most of freshman year. They had even tried the whole friends-with-benefits thing, and that hadn't worked. After their breakup in May, she felt like they were broken up for good, which was a real shame. Sure, she'd been with other guys during their "off" periods, like Chris Abely and Landon Crane, but Derrick was the only guy she'd ever really loved. Or did she love him? She might have stopped when he started blowing her off for his friends and doing other stupid things. But she'd done some stupid things too. Either way, she was grateful to have had her first love. It was too bad it had to end like this. Now, whenever she saw him, they'd have awkwardly polite and short conversations. Massie supposed it would be easier if they were friends, but she didn't know if she was completely over him yet. She'd heard somewhere that you can never get over a guy you loved unless you found a new guy you love even more. And so far, she hadn't found that guy.

"All right guys, settle down!" A man with thick black rectangular glasses and a blue plaid shirt bustled through the door. "I'm Mr. Raker, and I am your new Sociology teacher. Sorry I was running late," he muttered quickly, running a pale, hairy arm through his spiky dark hair. Judging from his young and frazzled appearance, Massie judged that he wasn't a very experienced teacher. "'Kay, I'm gonna take attendance real quick and give you your assigned seats."

As Mr. Raker called out names and gave seating assignments, Massie looked around at the black rectangular chemistry lab-style tables. They could fit four people, maybe five or six if people sat at the sides. Hopefully she wouldn't be stuck at a table with—"Massie Block, right here," Mr. Raker gestured to a chair. Massie's eyes quickly snapped into focus. _Oh, shit._ Of course, with her luck, she was stuck at a table with Derrick. At least he was sitting diagonally from her, which meant she wouldn't have to look at him too much. "Hey…Block." He said unsurely, probably trying to decide if he should still call her that. "Hey," Massie said timidly. "How was your summer?" Cue the awkwardly polite post-breakup conversation.

"Olivia Ryan, you're sitting across from Massie, next to Harrington." _Oh, perfect._ Massie couldn't stand Duh-Livia Ryan any more than she had in middle school. And if she thought Alicia was acting a bit slutty, Olivia was practically Earth Mother Whore. Massie wished she had heat vision or some laser superpower as she stared at Olivia's flimsy low-cut, too-tight, see-through yellow blouse in disgust. At least Alicia was smart (kind of) and fun to be around. Olivia was just an airhead. And a whore.

"Kristen Gregory, you'll be on the side of this table, between Massie and Olivia." Massie immediately turned her head to look. She had compared schedules with Kristen this morning, and she totally forgot that one of her best friends was in this class with her.

"Hey," Massie giggled at the pleasant surprise. At least she had Kristen to talk to at this table from hell.

"Hey!" Kristen smiled back.

"And T.J. Duncan, you'll be next to Massie, across from Harrington." Massie groaned inwardly. Not that T.J. kid, he was the last thing this table needed. He was a junior, and she'd seen the kid at parties before. He was part of some gross, grungy garage band called "_The Rising Saints_." They were always invited to play at A-List high school parties, and Massie never understood why. Sure, they were good, but they were no _Black Eyed Peas _or _Plain White T's_.

He was also known for scheming, pranking, and just being funny. For that, everyone loved him. But Massie didn't see what was so great about him. He was just some high school punk who liked to party on rooftops. Massie took in his tall, scrawny figure, scruffy dark hair and black Led Zeppelin T-shirt and scowled. He wasn't even hot.

This table sucked.

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**A/N: So, there you go. Should I continue this story? Do you like it so far? Review! :)**

**And don't worry, I'm not gonna have Derrington and this new guy fight to the death over Massie or anything. This is supposed to be a light and funny story, so just sit back and enjoy it! :)**

**And if you're looking for any more funny Clique stories, check out Not Another Clique Story by juicyfruit007. (Lol, we have such similar pen names!) It's a parody of the Clique, and it's hilarious! I was literally cracking up after every sentence. :D**


	2. Starting with the garage band punk

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for your awesome reviews! I honestly wasn't sure about this story at first, but you guys got me totally into it.**

**quiteriveting—Thanks so much! And yeah, writing about a main character with an OC is pretty hard to pull off, but I'm gonna do the best I can with this one, and hopefully people will love it! :)**

**70'sFan—Thanks for totally praising my writing, lol. And yeah, I thought Massie was a little OOC, but I wanted it to seem like she'd matured a bit since middle school, lol. And my character's not gonna be that much like Hyde from **_**That 70's Show**_** (sorry, lol), but he **_**will**_** make Massie less shallow and popularity-obsessed. **

**juicyfruit007—haha, thanks…yeah, Landon is too much like Massie. Don't worry, my character's gonna be so much better, and Landon can suck his dick…lol.**

**BSlover1812—Thanks…yeah, I really wanted to try out a different character with Massie, and I love that you're giving it a chance!**

**Everyone else who reviewed, read, and favorited—THANK YOUUU! :)**

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**BOCD High**

**September 3****rd**

**9:38 a.m.**

"'Sup guys," T.J. asked as he sat down at the table, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

"Hey," Derrick and Olivia responded at the same time, Olivia sounding slightly flirtatious. "I'm T.J., for those of you that are crazy and don't know me from the _Rising Saints_." He smiled crookedly, making it clear that he was joking and not being conceited. Olivia giggled.

Massie knew his real name was Virgil or Hamilton or something equally stupid that had nothing to do with the letters _T _or _J_, but he just went by T.J. and had all his teachers call him that too. It reminded Massie of T.J. Detwiler, the "Prankster Prince" of _Recess_, which was her favorite cartoon growing up. But what really grabbed her was his last name. Could he be related to R.J. and J.D. Duncan, two of the hottest heartthrobs to ever attend BOCD? They were right up there with guys like Harris Fisher, and they made the senior alphas' "Top Ten Most Desirable Guys in Westchester" list every year. J.D. and Harris had graduated, but R.J. was a senior this year, and he was looking finer every day. Massie doubted that this pale, scrawny band geek was related to those tan and toned eye-candy hotties, but hey, he had the same last name and they all had those initial names. There had to be a connection.

"Hey, your last name is Duncan, right?" Massie asked, turning to him.

"Yeah. See, I knew I was famous." T.J. popped the collar of his plaid shirt, causing Olivia to giggle again.

"Are you related to R.J. and J.D.?" Massie asked eagerly.

"Yeah, they're my bros." T.J. responded, suddenly sounding tired.

"Ehmagawd, your brothers are so hot!" Massie blurted. Kristen and Olivia giggled at Massie's gutsy outburst.

"Thanks, I'll tell 'em that!" T.J. rolled his eyes with a little smile.

Derrick, Kristen and Olivia all laughed at that, and Massie suddenly felt a little nervous. Hopefully, he was either bluffing or he'd forget. She didn't want to sound like a stalker to two of the hottest guys in Westchester. T.J. ran his hands through his dark, scruffy hair. "Man, if I had a freakin' nickel for every time I heard that…" he trailed off.

"I hear ya, man. People say that to me too. The girls say it about my brother and the guys say it about my sister, so I have it twice as bad." Derrick recalled.

Mr. Raker had passed around the course syllabus and told the students to "read it for themselves, since I don't want to waste my valuable time reading it to you guys." But right now, that sheet of paper was the furthest thing from Massie's mind.

"Does anyone have any questions?" he asked, asked, as if anyone had actually finished reading it.

Alex Cooper, a nerd that sat in the back raised his hand. "Why were you late to class on the _first day_?" he asked incredulously, without waiting to be called on.

Mr. Raker ran his hands through his hair again. "Ah, that would be because of the senior prank from last year's seniors. They decided to tow all our cars and put them in the parking lot of the church across the street. I had to go over there and get my car."

"That was it? That was their senior prank?" Derrick chuckled. "Better watch out for those pranksters!"

"Hey, I got a sick idea for a prank," T.J. smirked. "How about we just go home in the middle of the day tomorrow? And then, we don't come to school for two days after that? That would show 'em!" The whole class tittered with laughter at that. Massie clenched her teeth. _It wasn't that funny!_ How did people think that was funny, but her jokes weren't?

"But we have a half day tomorrow, and then it's the weekend!" Olivia exclaimed, probably positive she was the only one that realized this.

Massie smiled in satisfaction. _Thank you, Duh-Livia, for killing the joke._ She couldn't believe people actually though this guy was funny. Their laughter would only encourage the punk to make more stupid jokes. Less than five minutes later, Massie's prediction came true.

"Hey, look, HER-Nandez," T.J. said, gesturing to a tall brunette girl whose forest-green hoodie said HERNANDEZ on the back. "Does anyone know who this Nandez belongs to?" T.J. grinned, looking fully aware that he had just made one of the lamest jokes in history. But if anyone could pull it off, apparently it was him. People started giggling again, and even the girl with the hoodie turned and cracked a smile at him.

Massie put her head in her hands in exasperation, momentarily forgetting that touching your face could cause acne. "It's _nawt_ funny!" she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Then why're you laughing?" T.J. smirked, turning to her.

Massie frowned in annoyance. She hadn't even realized she was. But it was a soft chuckle, the kind someone made when they heard a lame knock-knock joke. "'Cause you're so lame, you're actually funny," she finally said.

"Which in turn, makes me funny," he explained, sounding like a total geek.

Massie rolled her eyes and turned to Kristen. "Why were _you_ laughing?" she demanded. "Don't encourage him!"

Kristen shrugged. "It was the way he said it!" she answered, like that totally explained why everyone liked this guy so much.

Massie sighed and looked down at the "How much do you already know about Sociology?" worksheet that Mr. Raker had passed out that no one seemed to be working on. She tried to take a guess at what an "aspect of culture" was, but then she caught herself distractedly staring at the little black hairs on T.J.'s pale, skinny arms. They looked like tiny spider legs. Gross. Massie had always thought the whole black-hair-with-pale-skin look was insanely cool, but it really didn't work with one's arms.

He was having a conversation with Derrick and Olivia about his band and some party he'd performed at. Olivia looked truly fascinated, like a Twi-hard hearing Breaking Dawn deets for the first time. Massie wondered if Olivia was going to try and flirt with T.J. every day in this class. He wasn't even that great-looking. Sure, he was tall and dimpled and he had nice blue eyes, but he was no Taylor Lautner. It was bad enough that Olivia was flirting with Derrick now that he was single. She seemed to have a thing for the PC's exes, since she went for Cam when he and Claire had been broken up. Actually, she had a thing for any guy, really.

Massie sighed. So she was stuck at a table with the school's airhead whore, a hot ex-boyfriend she was still trying to get over, and a garage-band punk that everyone but her thought was hilarious. Big deal. She just had to make the most of her situation, starting with the garage-band punk. She couldn't stand him, but he did have two _hawt_ older brothers, one of which was single _and_ a senior. Having a guy like R.J. Duncan on her arm would definitely help her regain her waning alpha-ness. It might even make her comparable to the junior and senior alphas of BOCD. It would also help her get over Derrick, and he sat at her table, so she could always talk to T.J. about his brother and rub it in Derrick's face. She smiled slyly. Now she just had to get on T.J.'s good side, and maybe he'd hook them up.

Yeah. Good luck with that.

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**A/N: So yeah…the next chapter or two will be like this, with the gang interacting at the table, and Massie and T.J. getting to know each other more. And then I'll have the main plot…which I still have to decide on. Reviews are greatly appreciated. :)**


	3. I'm not a hater

**A/N: Wow, I'm glad to hear you guys like T.J. so much! I mean, I totally made up this character, so I really thought it could go either way. So I decided to make this chapter in his point of view…enjoy! Oh, and he's not exactly **_**nice**_** to Massie in his head, but that's 'cause they're not really supposed to like each other at first. Love-hate relationships are always the best. :] **

**Oh, and juicyfruit007, yeah, I just **_**had**_** to steal your chair joke from _Not Another Clique Story. _Hope that's okay. :)**

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**BOCD High**

**September 24****th **

**9:25 a.m.**

T.J. Duncan sighed as he walked into Sociology, his least favorite class. Why he hated it so much after only three weeks, he had no idea. It could be the fact that he had to sit next to this spoiled, selfish, high-maintenance diva day after day. He'd seen Massie Block at parties before, and he knew that she was the most popular sophomore girl at school or whatever. She was also filthy rich, so he knew what to expect from her. Still, he had no idea that she could really be _that_ shallow. The first thing she'd said to him was something about his "way hot" older brothers. Just like all the other shallow girls he'd met…except other girls actually took the time to have a decent conversation with him before mentioning how hot his brothers were.

She also had these lame-ass jokes which only _she_ thought were funny. Example: "Derrick, are you a midget?" she went.

"No." he replied.

"Then why don't you just get over me?" she'd finish with one of her classic eat-shit-and-die smiles. So apparently she'd had some history with the Tomahawk's star forward, Harrington. And sure, T.J. liked the guy okay. Him and his Richie-rich soccer buddies usually hired his band to play at their big blowout after-game parties. So T.J. had hung out with him a few times; he was cool. But he always thought that Harrington could do better than Queen Bitch Massie; she treated him like shit. And apparently, Harrington thought she was hot enough to put up with that level of bitching. Even now that they were broken up, he was all Mr. Nice Guy and didn't even try to fight back.

T.J. turned to Massie. "Okay, was that supposed to be funny?" He really didn't want to get into another argument with her right now; that was all they'd been doing in this class for the past three weeks. …Okay, maybe he did. Hey, her responses were actually kind of entertaining.

"It wasn't supposed to be, like, an LOL joke, it was a witticism," Massie retorted.

"Oh; well, tee hee hee." he taunted in that cocky way of his.

"Hey, they're better than your lame jokes!"

"At least people can laugh at my jokes!"

"Hey T.J., are you a Mac?" Massie asked in a fake-sweet voice.

_Oh, great._ He sighed and decided to humor her. "No…._or am I_?" he widened his bright blue eyes and pushed up the thin frames of his black rectangular reading glasses, pretending to be shocked.

"Well you must be, since you think you're so much better than the PC."

T.J. put his elbows on his desk and rubbed his eyes. Stupid sophomores and their seventh-grade slang. "What?" he couldn't believe he was asking her to clarify one of her oh-so-clever jokes.

"The PC as in the Pretty Committee."Massie explained haughtily.

"Oh, _sorry_." He rolled his eyes. Leave it to Massie Block to have her own army and actually _name_ it.

"T.J., are you pre-hab Lindsay Lohan?" She stood up to turn in her completed worksheet, not even waiting for his response."'Cause you really need to _Get a Clue_."

T.J. gritted his teeth. He couldn't stand this girl! "Oh yeah?," he asked, trying to beat her at her own game. "Well, are you a…chair?" Hey, it was all he could think of. She looked confused. "Then why are you…standing up?" Yes, it was lame, even for him. The rest of the table looked up from their worksheets and giggled as Massie sat back down, cringing. T.J. grinned as he saw her annoyed expression. By making a mockery of her "witticisms," he'd actually managed to make her stop doing them.

…

But that was last week. And today, she'd come to class with a chai latte in her hand. _Why did she always buy those things, anyway?_ T.J. wondered as he took his seat. Weren't they like, six bucks each? Not that she was exactly short on money…but she could always donate some if she really had that much to blow. And to a worthy cause, not cashmere sweaters for dogs or whatever she donated to.

Massie turned to him as he sat down. "Okay T.J., that's disgusting. What _is_ that?" she asked, pointing to the giant, gaping red organ printed on his black indie-band T-shirt.

He put his hand over his heart. "That's a heart, Block-head." _Not that you'd know._ T.J. smirked at getting the chance to call her _Block-head_ again. After hearing Harrington call her Block, he'd decided to put his own little spin on the nickname. Massie had been less than thrilled, but Harrington was totally trying not to laugh.

"No, hearts are…like this," she explained after pulling out her custom-made colorful-heart-covered Dooney and Burke wallet.

"Right," he grumbled. Massie was a sophomore; she should definitely know by now what a real heart looked like. But she continued to stare at the bloody, vein-covered organ on his shirt in disgust. But what else can you really expect from a girl who only cared about her "Pretty Committee," winning Homecoming Queen, and the flavor of lip gloss that was delivered to her doorstep each morning?

It wasn't that T.J. hated Massie, he really didn't. He thought he did at first, but really, she just took some getting used to. Sure, she was spoiled, shallow, vain, mean, bossy…the list went on and on. But so what? T.J. wasn't much of a hater. _Don't hate; appreciate._ That had always been one of his favorite sayings. And he kinda liked arguing with her every day; it was entertaining. T.J. had always been the creative type, so every time he talked to Massie Block, he fought the urge to write a song or a comic book about her (yeah, he was also a gifted artist), or dress up like the "Pretty Committee" with his friends and film a video that made fun of her, which he'd then put up on YouTube. Her name could be _Cassie Clock_. Yeah, that was clever. He'd do a damn good job of making fun of her too. The video would get millions of views, and then he'd become a YouTube celebrity, just like those Asian kids or that guy with the emo hair that all the girls went crazy over. Oh, and then her Richie-rich family would probably sue his ass. So he just kept those ideas to himself.

Still, he knew Massie had some good qualities, and he knew exactly what he could use a girl like her for. _No, not that. _He'd actually been meaning to ask her to join the school paper. He was the editor and music reviewer, and he knew they needed someone to write the social column. She'd be perfect for the job, since she obviously loved to gossip and make "witty" remarks about everything. He wasn't even sure how to ask her, since he was almost positive she'd refuse and make fun of him for even asking. _Ah, fuck it_, he decided. _Let's just see where this conversation goes. _

"Hey Block, wanna join the school newspaper?" T.J. interrupted her conversation with Kristen, deciding to leave out the _head_ part after _Block_, since he was trying to ask her nicely. "I bet you could write an awesome social column." He pressed, trying to butter her up.

Massie wrinkled her pointy, slightly upturned nose. "Ew, I don't wanna join your little geek squad."

_Well, that's one way to say no._

T.J. shrugged. "You gotta do _some_ extracurricular stuff to get into a good college, ya know."

"Puh-_lease_," Massie examined her immaculately French-manicured nails. "Why would I do _that_ when I can just _buy_ my way into any college I want?"

_Well _hello_ there, Little Miss Humble. _

"Well, it helps to actually _do_ something too." T.J. answered, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Not if you already won a Miss Kiss Pageant, auditioned for a major motion picture, modeled for Teen People Magazine, and worked as a sales rep for Be Pretty Cosmetics, eventually becoming the highest seller," Massie shot T.J. one of her classic fuck-off-and-die smiles. _Of course._

_Curse that prissy, spoiled little bitch. _

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**A/N: Sorry if my writing style is a little Gossip Girl-ish, but that's all I've been reading for the past two weeks. :) So...he wants her to join the school paper and she wants a date with his brother...interesting, lol. **

**So, what did you guys think? Do you like Massie's POV or T.J.'s POV better, and what were your favorite scenes? Let me know, it might help me plan future chapters.**

**Oh, and 10 points to anyone who knows who the emo-haired kid and Asian kids kid on YouTube are! :D**


	4. Marriage, parenting and blackmail

**BOCD High**

**September 28th**

**9:30 a.m.**

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"So today, since we're on the gender unit, I thought it would be fun to do this little marriage and parenting activity." Mr. Raker announced.

_Of course_, Massie thought. Knowing her luck, she'd probably be stuck doing this with Derrick. Sure things had gotten a little less awkward between them since they saw each other at this table every day, but still, a _marriage_ activity?

"You guys can work with the person sitting next to you." Mr. Raker smirked knowingly and began to pass out worksheets with marriage and parenting questions on them.

_Great_, she'd have to work with T.J. That was almost worse than working with Derrick. She knew Mr. Raker got a kick out of watching them argue every day, so obviously, he'd done this on purpose. "Come on, Mr. Raker…isn't it enough that you're making me sit by him? Now you're gonna make me have his kids too?" Massie sneered.

"Yeah, he wants me to take the bullet for the other guys in the class." T.J. chuckled.

Massie glared at him as Mr. Raker started assigning partners to people who weren't sitting next to someone of the opposite sex. She looked over at Olivia, who was a little overexcited about the fact that she got to be "married" to Derrick for an hour. She'd even started coming up with names for their "kids." She felt that little pang of jealousy in her stomach again and picked up the worksheet. If she had to work with T.J., she was sure as hell gonna make the most of it. Since they had always been picking on each other in class, she'd been finding it harder and harder to get on his good side and ask about his hot brother. Maybe it was time she dropped a little hint.

"Soo…T.J., why don't we work on this at your house? I've always wanted to see where you live," Massie suggested on-so-nonchalantly.

"You just wanna go there so you can hit on my brothers," T.J. said knowingly, rolling up the sleeves of the oversized black and white plaid shirt he wore over one of his band T-shirts. Massie smiled in satisfaction. That was exactly what she'd wanted him to say. Derrick always looked a little jealous when she mentioned something about T.J.'s brothers. This time though, he just smiled and continued filling out his worksheet with Olivia. Massie had heard that Derrick was dating Chelsea Boyak, who was just as much of a slutty airhead as Olivia. They could've been twins, except Chelsea was a brunette and had a more obvious fake tan. If he was over her that fast, she needed to show that she was over him too. Which was why she needed T.J. to hook her up.

"Relax, you guys can probably finish this in class, so nobody needs to meet up after school," Mr. Raker jokingly assured them.

"Yeah, unless you wanna join the school newspaper…" T.J. said hopefully.

"No!" Massie snapped. He'd been bugging her about that for like, four days now. What was so great about the school paper, anyways? She didn't even know they had one.

She picked up the worksheet and read the question. If your son got straight A's on his report card, how would you reward him? Well, that one was easy. We'd give him money, she quickly wrote. The next one wasn't so easy. "If your seventeen-year-old daughter wanted to have sex, would you get her birth control? Or do you think that would send the wrong message?" she read aloud.

"Well, I'd get it for her, but I wouldn't _tell her_ it's birth control…" T.J. explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'd say it was candy. Or I'd just stick it in her food when she's not looking."

Some guys started to laugh and Massie sighed. Obviously, he wasn't gonna take this seriously. A few questions later, T.J. started asking the questions that the "wives" were supposed to answer. "If you caught me chatting up my ex, would you assume I was cheating on you?" he read aloud.

"Um, yeah! Whoever I marry won't even be allowed to _look_ at other girls for more than a few seconds."

"Gee, thanks a lot, _cock_-Block." This made the guys around their table erupt with laughter, and Massie merely gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes. _Don't encourage him_, she mentally reminded herself. If she showed even the slightest hint of annoyance or discomfort, T.J. could very well make that nickname the new "Block-head."

As she predicted, the guys finally calmed down and T.J. moved on to the next question. "Okay. If your son came home crying after getting beat up by a girl, what would you do?" T.J. adjusted his reading glasses and looked at her with his shimmery sky-blue eyes.

"I'd tell him to suck it up, 'cause real men don't cry. Well, unless I'm crying, 'cause that's a pretty good reason to cry." Massie said quickly.

"Uh, isn't that a bit harsh?" T.J. raised an eyebrow at her, and Massie realized he could do the single-eyebrow-raise even better than she could, and it looked even more compelling on him with those stunning blue eyes of his. Her mind was temporarily blown, but she regained her cool and quickly snapped back to reality.

"No way. Real men _don't cry_. It's a total given."

"Well then. I guess this means I shouldn't tell you that I cried during the _Drake & Josh Christmas Movie_." He muttered and grinned, not exactly ashamed of the fact.

Massie laughed at this revelation, not completely believing him. "Seriously? It's _Drake & Josh_!" she cried, still laughing.

"Hey, that movie was a tear-jerker!" He smirked, causing people to laugh again. Massie smiled and shook her head. Only T.J. could pull off saying something like that.

"Yeah, or maybe you were just on your man-period." She teased him, feeling somewhat proud of herself. She would never have been able to make a joke like that in middle school—that would just be reminding guys that girls (even her!) had periods! Gross! But now that she was used to periods, just like her friends, she felt mature enough to make those jokes.

"Yeah, ya know, I probably was," he laughed.

"I love a man who cries," Olivia declared, joining into the conversation. "Guys who have the guts to show their feelings are insanely sexy," she giggled. Massie rolled her eyes. What she found more impressive than the fact that T.J. apparently "showed his feelings" was the fact that he knew who he was and he was able to make fun of himself. And that was…well, that was just something she could learn from him. She'd never be able to admit something like that about herself. And if someone found out something that embarrassing about her and called her out on it, she'd get all defensive and insult them to tears before they could even say "I'm sorry, Massie!" T.J. was just…so _unlike_ her in every way; it was actually kind of enthralling. Wait, what the hell was she doing thinking about T.J.? She had his hot older brother to think about! Speaking of which…

"Hey, Duncan," she started quietly, building up the nerves to say the next part. "Tell your brother to go out with me. You know, R.J….The one who's a senior here." Massie saw Derrick look up out of the corner of her eye looking mildly curious and smiled to herself. Now all T.J. had to do was say yes and she'd be the most alpha-tastic sophomore in Westchester.

T.J. turned away from Olivia and sighed. "Okay, first of all, he goes by Ricky now. You didn't even know his name. Second, you don't wanna date my brother, he's a douche."

"Yeah, I'll see about that. I'm sure I've dated worse guys." Massie glanced at Derrick, who tried to look like he hadn't heard her.

"Well, okay, but he's kind of a player, so don't say I didn't warn you." T.J. thought for a moment. "Okay, here's the deal. I'll tell him to ask you out if you join the school newspaper."

"What? No way!" Massie snapped. Not this again…and how dare he give her an ultimatum? She didn't need to take this. She could just wait until she saw Ricky at a party or something and then she could flirt with him until he asked her out. That would show T.J….she didn't need _him_ to get guys.

"Fine, then I'll just tell him you're a crazy psycho-bitch that likes to creepishly stalk him." T.J. smirked.

Massie's eyes widened. No way, he was bluffing. He wouldn't do that….no, he would. _That blackmailing son of a bitch_. She had never been blackmailed in her life. She was always the one doing it to others…and in some twisted way, she was a teensy bit impressed that someone was able to manipulate her like that. It was unnerving. But of course, she still hated him.

"Fine, I'll join your stupid school paper. Just don't expect me to do any actual work, like typing and stuff." Massie scoffed.

"Wouldn't dream of it." T.J. smiled showing his dimples, obviously thrilled that he finally got what he wanted. "Meet us after school in room C-15."

…

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**A/N: So, what'd you guys think? Make sure you review…I'm gonna need at least 6 reviews for an update. I hate to do that, but I just need to know that enough people are reading and want me to continue. :]**

**I haven't written the next chapter yet, but I have the story outline finished, so I can get started on that right away if enough of you guys want me to. :D**


	5. Rich girls can't drive

**A/N: Wow, thanks for the reviews, guys! And thanks to everyone who's favoriting or just reading, you guys are awesome too! I can just feel the chapters growing longer and longer since you guys are so awesome… ;)**

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**BOCD High**

**September 28th**

**3:42 a.m.**

"Holy hell Block, I can't believe you made me type all that!" T.J. complained as they walked out the school's front door and down the cement steps.

"Hey, I had some pretty good ideas! And you're the one who begged me to join the school paper…beggars can't be choosers, ya know." Massie protested in response.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." T.J. mumbled in response. He had to admit that she was pretty good at coming up with ideas for the social column. At first, he didn't think he'd be able to stand working with her after school-and he'd been partly right—but she did have some great ides. She'd come up with a "cute couples" section where they'd ask students about their favorite couples and what made them last. Then she'd put in an opinion writing section where students would voice their opinions on new music and movies. And T.J. knew that was just the beginning…Massie was good at this stuff! And he was pretty desperate for a popular school newspaper at this point, which was the only reason he'd asked her to join. For one thing, their rival school, ADD, had a tremendously popular school paper, and he'd heard that was because of the social columnist. Due to their popularity, the editor of ADD's paper had managed to get some pieces published in _The Journal News_, an actual New York newspaper. If he got to do that, he'd definitely get a scholarship to NYU, maybe even Ivy League Columbia, where his father had gone. And with a social columnist like Massie, he just might make it.

Massie smiled and lifted her vintage red leather Coach Messenger bag over her shoulder. T.J. Duncan had actually praised her on something! And she had to admit, being on the school newspaper wasn't all that bad. It was actually kind of fun asking people about their opinions on things; they'd gotten into some pretty hilarious conversations. And this way, she got to all the good gossip before anyone, even Alicia. And of course, she got to have even more trivial arguments with T.J. while they designed they layout. What could she say, he was starting to grow on her.

"Seriously, my fingers feel like they're about to fall off," T.J. complained again, interrupting her train of thought. "How the hell am I supposed to drive home?"

"Wait, you have a car? I thought you were poor," Massie said blatantly. She didn't feel any remorse saying it either, since he always called he a "Richie-rich spoiled princess brat who only cares about looks and money."

T.J. gave her a strange look. "It's called upper-middle class, Block-head. Not everyone is either rich or poor, you know." Massie shrugged. Compared to her family's wealth, upper-middle class _was_ poor.

"So yeah, I'm gonna need you to drive me home." As T.J. said that, Massie's body froze. She didn't actually want to admit to him that she…well, she couldn't drive. At all. She'd never even been behind the wheel of a car. The way she saw it, she always had Issac to drive her wherever she wanted, so what was the point in learning? But she couldn't tell T.J. that; he'd make fun of her even more for being spoiled, and it seemed totally lame.

"Uh, I don't have my license."Massie admitted. "I would, but I'm not sixteen yet." Massie smiled to herself. She loved how she made it sound like she was an expert driver who was anxiously waiting until the day she turned sixteen so she could go get her license and start living an even more wild and adventurous life.

"It's fine, I live right across the street. I would just walk, but I gotta get the car home; we've got all our band instruments in there. So just drive me. I'll get my brother to drive you home if you want."

At that, Massie couldn't refuse. Maybe T.J. had actually kept up his end of the deal and Ricky would finally ask her out. And hey, it was just across the street, right? She could do this. She'd seen her driver do it for years; it couldn't be that hard…right?

"Fine," she grumbled. They walked down the parking lot and T.J. pulled out his keys.

"Well, there it is," he smirked, tossing the keys over to her. The second Massie saw the car, she knew she'd made a huge mistake. It was a huge black van with his band's name, _The Rising Saints_, spray-painted across the sides in a bright laser-red color in a style that resembled dripping blood. It was also covered with strange designs and bumper stickers that said stuff like "IMPORTED FROM DETROIT" and "IF YOU CAN READ THIS…well, I'm not impressed. Most people can read." and a bunch of other crap that T.J. and his "Rising Saints" probably thought was hilarious or politically fascinating. Massie couldn't see through the tinted windows, but she was sure that there was a bunch of heavy band equipment inside, which would make it even harder to drive.

"Seriously?" she groaned, taking in the giant van's intimidating pimped-out hipster-punk appearance.

"Yeah. Sweet ride, huh?" T.J. smirked again at her displeasure. Massie grimaced, but she knew there was no backing out now. She felt like she had to do this. To prove to T.J. that she wasn't a spoiled little princess, and to prove to herself that she was tough enough to handle anything, even something she'd never tried before. She really should've asked Issac for some practice lessons first…but whatever, this was no big deal. She just had to get the car down the street, and then T.J.'s brother would hopefully ask her out.

Massie tried to stick the key into the door, but it wouldn't work. She quickly tried another key, and miraculously, the door opened. She hoisted herself up into the giant van and strapped on her seat belt. She checked the rearview mirrors and adjusted them to her height so she could check everything behind her, just like she'd seen Issac do every few seconds. She pulled down the makeup mirror and checked her hair. She had felt herself starting to sweat, and she hoped that wasn't affecting the new darker shade of hair she'd gotten from Jakkob last weekend. She finger-combed her side bangs and reapplied her French-vanilla cupcake Glossip Girl Gloss, wondering why the hell T.J. wasn't in the car yet.

"You can unlock my door any day now, you know." T.J. looked at her in amusement from the passenger's side.

"Oh!" Massie quickly reached for the buttons on the side. There were like, six buttons for the windows, but which one was for the damn door? Massie finally pressed the one with a little open-lock symbol on it, and thankfully, it unlocked his door. As T.J. struggled to open the door with his cramped-up hands, Massie realized how much she still needed to learn. She'd never felt this stupid in her entire life. But thankfully, Kristen and Claire had taken driver's ed, and they'd told her a few things. She knew she had to put in the key, and shift the gear-thing to reverse. She tried to stick in the key, but it wouldn't work. Massie panicked. What was she doing wrong this time?

"Other way," T.J. said, sounding bored.

"Gee, thanks," Massie responded, as if she'd already figured that out and his helpful hint had no revelation whatsoever. She turned the metal end upside down (or right side up) and stuck it in again. This time, the engine roared to life, almost giving her a heart attack. _I may never drive again_, Massie thought bitterly. Then she took a deep breath and shifted the gear to reverse. This was cool, this was all right. _She could do this. She could do this. She could do this_.

Suddenly, her calm-and-cool mantra was interrupted by some heavy-metal crap that had started blaring through the speakers. _Of course_, he had to crank up the music. "DON'T." Massie glared at him sternly and shut it off. T.J. looked at her like she'd grown an extra head.

"What's your problem?" he snapped.

"I already have to drive your stupid, scary car. I don't need your stupid, scary music to go with it." Massie hissed.

"_Sorry_," he said somewhat sarcastically, putting his head in his hands. _Great_, Massie thought. He wasn't even looking. She was on her own. She thought she knew how to pull out a car from watching Issac do it all these years. She checked behind her and tilted the wheel to the left, slowly letting her foot off the brake. _So far, so good. _The giant hunk of metal T.J. called a car was actually pulling out nicely. Massie smiled in relief. She knew she could do this. She wished Alicia could see her now. She'd never been behind the wheel of a car either, and now Massie could finally say she'd done something that Alicia hadn't...and she was actually doing a pretty god job of it. She checked behind her again. Just a little more back…her foot teetered over the brake. Suddenly, she heard Pitbull's _Hey Baby_ blaring out of T.J.'s iPod (even though he had headphones on) and she whipped her head around just as the song went "Ooh baby baby, LA LA LA LA LA LA!" _Seriously, couldn't he go two seconds without his music?_ CRUNCH. Massie's eyes widened as she heard the sound of crushing metal and she quickly put the car in park and whipped her head around.

"_Oh, shit!"_ she squealed, throwing the door open and walking around the car. T.J. was going to kill her…

"What the hell?" T.J. yanked out his headphones (finally) and struggled with the door again. When he finally got out, he walked around to see what they'd hit.

They had slammed right against a silver Toyota. But being the big hunk of metal it was, T.J.'s band van was almost scratch-free. The Toyota, however, wasn't looking so good. But it didn't look too messed up…_maybe they could just drive away and this person wouldn't notice_. That's when Massie saw the license plate. P. BURNS. Her body froze again and this time, she felt like she was about to pass out.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU COULDN'T DRIVE? I COULD'VE JUST CALLED MY MOM OR MY BOROTHER TO WALK ACROSS THE STREET AND THEY COUD'VE DROVE ME!" T.J. ran his hands through his scruffy dark hair, looking beyond exasperated. Of all the times they'd argued, Massie had never seen him this angry, and it made her more scared than she already was.

"I can drive! I'm just…a little rusty." she said feebly, attempting to defend herself.

"You hit a car that was parked _ten feet_ away! _How stupid do you think I am?_" T.J. actually looked…kind of scared. He'd always seemed like he wasn't afraid of anything, and now, here he was, freaking out. The whole scene was almost enough to give Massie a panic attack. She started to tell him it was all his fault for distracting her with his music, and Principal Burns chose that moment to walk outside and start screaming—or squawking—at them.

"WHAT HAVE YOU ROTTEN KIDS DONE TO MY CAR?" Massie had never seen Principal Burns this upset either. "I WANT BOTH OF YOU IN MY OFFICE _NOW!_"

Massie gulped. _She was going to die. _

_

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_

**A/N: Dun dun dun…that was an interesting turn of events, huh? And don't blame me if I got the driving stuff wrong…I still have to get my license, and I'm 17. :(**

**Anyway, I'm thinking of having T.J. take the blame for Massie with P. Burns since he's just noble and heroic like that. ;) What do you guys think? Review!**

**-juicyfruit93**


	6. Hot dates and money issues

**A/N: Thanks so much for the awesome reviews, guys! Shout-out time!**

**Special thanks to: it's just real for saying I did a great job in description and imagery in the last chapter. I'm a sucker for compliments on my writing skills! :) **

**And to crystal blaze and stormyy for being fans of That 70's Show! You guys have awesome taste in TV Shows. :) crystal blaze, you're about to love T.J. even more. **

**And stormyy, yeah, I know what you mean. I made him a bit of a mixture of Hyde AND Eric. Kinda scrawny and geeky, but still hardcore and really into music. Lol, I love those characters, but I didn't wanna completely copy them, so I put my own spin on the character: T.J. has his own band, he's smart and he's a talented artist. Oh, and he doesn't smoke weed, lol. And for the record, you rule even more for giving me an awesome review. :)**

**And to everyone else who reviewed, favorited, alerted, or just took the time to read this! You guys are awesome! :D**

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**BOCD High**

**September 28th**

**4:32 p.m.**

Once they were inside Bird-Lady's cage, T.J. started talking at once. "Look, Principal Burns, I am _so_ sorry about your car. I mean, I was the one driving, and it's my fault completely." _Wait, why was he taking the blame for her? _Massie didn't know what to say, so she just waited.

"I don't care whose fault it was! You wrecked my car!" she squawked.

"I totally understand, Mrs. Burns, you have every right to be upset. And for what it's worth, this was completely unintentional. I was just dead-tired from studying for a test last night, and then I was editing the school newspaper, and I was trying to get home to take care of my grandma…" T.J. went on sounding like a total schmo.

Massie sighed, somewhat relieved that he was doing all the talking. T.J. Duncan was an infamous smooth-talker and an excellent bullshit artist. He could charm and lie his way into anything. From what she'd heard, this was the guy who had gotten sent to the office for selling his band's T-shirts on school grounds and come out of the office with permission to sell his shirts in the school store _and_ orders for his T-shirts from _both_ assistant principals. If T.J. wanted to, he could become an expert con artist one day. Or a used-car salesman. He had the perfect trickster grin for either sleazy profession.

"Why thank you, Timothy. Do you really think so?" Principal Burns sounded a lot more soothed now. Massie snapped back to the conversation. _Wait, his real name was Tim? And how the hell had they gotten from talking about Principal Burns's wrecked car to how well her new diet was working?_

"Oh, it's working _big time_. And not to sound like a suck-up or anything, but you look _really_ good, Mrs. Burns." T.J. looked Bird-Lady straight in the eye and flashed her a grin. Massie fought to hold back a snort. This guy was unbelievable.

"Well, thank you, that's just so nice to hear. I'm so sorry I have to punish you…but you did wreck my car." Principal Burns let out a small chuckle-squawk. "So I'm going to have to charge you for repairs."

"Oh, that's okay, I got this," Massie responded automatically, pulling out her Dooney and Bourke wallet. She just wanted to get out of there. "How much do you need?"

Principal Burns turned to glare at her with her beady eyes squinted. "Oh no you don't, Missy. I know you can easily afford to pay the cost of my repairs, but that's not what you're here for. I want to teach you kids a lesson. So you're going to have to _earn_ the money to cover the costs, not take it from your parents. And no, selling your band shirts doesn't count. Niether does selling your lip gloss."

Massie groaned silently in annoyance. Of course Bird-Lady would think of the most sadistic way to punish them. _Earn_ the money? What was she, _poor?_

"Now please excuse me, I'm going to call your parents. I think they'll find this punishment very justified. You'll need to earn $1,200 in the next two weeks."

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**T.J.'s House**

**September 28th**

**4:44 p.m.**

Twenty minutes later, Massie found herself sitting in T.J.'s kitchen, waiting for Isaac to pick her up. Just like his car, T.J.'s house had a style of it's own. From the dark red couches, expensive-looking artwork and projection-screen TV in the living room to the glass fridge, marble countertops and wet bar in the kitchen, everything seemed to be modern and ultra-hip. But the thing Massie appreciated most about his house was sitting next to her on one of the bar stools, actually _talking_ to her.

"Man, you wrecked Burns's car? That's freakin' awesome!" Ricky Duncan held his hand out for a high-five and Massie nearly burst with happiness. Here she was, talking to one of the hottest seniors at school about something as badass as crashing the principal's car. Yeah, he definitely thought she was cool.

"Yeah, with your amazing driving skills," T.J. rolled his eyes as he raided the fridge. "I bet you're _so close_ to getting your license now!"Ricky chuckled and Massie felt the urge to strangle T.J. Did he really have to bring that up _now?_

"Shut up, T.J." Massie glared at him. But then she remembered that she should be a little nicer to him since he'd taken the blame for her with Principal Burns. She was still wondering why he did that. "So, um, why'd you say you were the one driving?" Massie asked shyly, fingering her dark brown hair.

"Cause_ I_ know how to talk to people. If it was you, Burns woulda probably had us suspended. Or on cafeteria duty for the rest of the year." T.J. cracked open a can of root beer and took a gulp.

_So much for being a noble hero. _

"_Talk to people?_ Is that what you call kissing the principal's ass these days?" Massie asked incredulously.

"Hey, you're lucky I said that stuff or she woulda found an even worse way to punish us. You should be thanking me. I had to schmooze Burns for like, an hour."

_More like ten minutes._

"Did you tell her she lost weight? That always works," Ricky grinned mischievously. Massie looked back at him and giggled. Gawd, he was _so hawt!_ With his thick, spiky chocolate-brown hair, tanned, athletic build and smoldering brown eyes he looked almost male model-like. It created a stark contrast to his younger brother, who was pale and lanky with scruffy dark hair_. How had T.J. not inherited the hawtness gene? _But he was _kinda_ good looking, Massie had to admit. He _had_ inherited those amazing blue eyes. They were like sparkling sapphires. And that sexy smile…wait, _what?_

"'Kay, I gotta get to work. But hey, Massie, we should hang out later."

Massie froze. Hearing those words come out of Ricky's mouth almost gave her a physical reaction. Did he just ask her out? Maybe T.J. _had_ kept up his end of the bargain.

"Um, yeah! we should,"she said quickly. Hopefully she didn't sound _too_ enthusiastic.

"Cool, I could take you to Hurley's party this weekend. My little brother's got a gig there too," he said, grinning at T.J. "How much are those rich little soccer boys paying you this time?"

As T.J. rolled his eyes, Massie thought over his brother's offer. Kemp Hurley's party? That meant Derrick would be there. And she'd show up with one of the hottest seniors at school, making him crazy with jealousy.

"Yeah, we could go to that party," she replied nonchalantly. _Of course she'd go._ As they exchanged numbers, Massie saw T.J. grow a little tense. Almost _protective_…no way, why would he care?

After Ricky left, she found T.J. looking at her kind of awkwardly. "So…you want anything?" he asked, gesturing to the root beer in his hand. Massie was already nibbling on the big chocolate chip cookies on the bar counter, and now she needed something to wash them down with. _Coffee would be nice._ She eyed the espresso machine in back of the kitchen that was sitting between the stainless steel microwave and toaster oven.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a chai latte."

T.J. scoffed in response. "You seriously drink that stuff? You do know that chai is just some made-up Starbucks bullshit, right? They come up with those fancy names so they can justify charging six dollars a cup that's half full of froth to people like you, when the only _real_ hot drink on the planet is Folgers Instant Coffee."

"Fine, I'll have that!" Massie snapped, trying to avoid getting a lecture on coffee corporations or whatever the hell he was going off about. But as he made her the "real" coffee, Massie couldn't help but smile. His cynicism was actually kind of amusing.

As she blew on the steaming drink with the rich mountain-fresh aroma and carefully took a sip, she nearly gagged. This definitely wasn't what she was used to. Never in a million years would she consider drinking coffee that wasn't from Starbucks or somewhere equally or more expensive. But by the time she drowned half the cup, she found herself getting used to the bittersweet taste. There was just something about the dark roast that made it distinct, and she couldn't help but chug it a little faster.

"Like it much?" T.J. asked with an amused smile as the rich girl quickly finished off the mug.

"I guess," Massie shrugged, trying not to smile. No way would she give him the satisfaction.

"So…just a warning, my brother's not the best choice for a party date." T.J. actually looked…_concerned_. But Massie stayed defiant. There was no way she was going to give up a super-hawt party date she could use to make a cute ex jealous just because some cynical punk said he "wasn't the best choice." And T.J. really needed to stop this protective crap. What did he think she was, twelve?

"T.J., I don't _care_. I'm almost sixteen, and I've dated older guys before, I'm _nawt_ that innocent."

T.J. chuckled and help up his arms in surrender. "Well _okay_ then, if that's what you're into…" he chuckled again. "I guess I can't stop you. Just don't come cryin' to me if he starts hitting on some other chick at the party. Oh, and you might wanna have a designated driver, 'cause he'll probably be too drunk to drive you home. And _you_ don't have a license, thank God for that." He smirked.

Massie rolled her eyes, ignoring the jab. _Okay, that was…unsettling._ But whatever, she was still determined to have the hottest date at the party. And this was _Ricky Duncan_. He could show up in a stolen cop car wearing nothing but a pair of handcuffs for all she cared. As long as she completely regained her alpha status and made Derrick at least a little jealous, she'd get what she wanted. And who knew, maybe he'd clean up his act just for her and turn out to be the perfect guy. That'd be even better.

"So anyway, how are we gonna earn twelve hundred dollars? Any ideas, Princess?" he asked kind of mockingly, sitting on the bar stool next to hers. Massie groaned inwardly. She had thought that since T.J. took the blame, _he'd _be the one that had to earn the money, _nawt _both of them. But obviously, Principal Burns hated her, so she wasn't getting off the hook that easily. If Bird-Lady knew that Massie was the one driving, she would punish only her and not T.J., Massie knew that for sure.

Now she had to think of a way to earn twelve hundred dollars in two weeks. At least T.J. would be helping her. _Why was he doing this anyway?_ It _was_ kind of her fault. Massie thought for a while. Other than being the sales rep for _Be Pretty_ the summer before eighth grade, she didn't have much work experience. _Hmm, how could she use her superior fashion sense to help people and make a fortune?_

"Hey, I know what we can do. I could give people makeovers and charge them. I had to give them to these LBR's in eighth grade when I was stuck in a trailer with them, and I made them look ah-mazing. I mean, you should've seen what they looked like before. I gave them to Twizzler, Great White, Big Mac, Monkey Paws, Candy Corn-"

"Okay, Block? Unless those are the names of indie bands, I don't know what you're talking about. All I got from that was 'Hey! I know what we can do!'" he mocked in a fake-girly voice. "Wa wa wa, wa wa wa wa." He imitated the "adult-talk" on Peanuts. "And I don't know what your weird, girly plan to make money is, but I'm almost positive I _don't_ wanna be a part of it." His eyes sparkled defiantly, and Massie was taken aback.

"Why? Oh, you could _so_ be a part of it! I could take you tanning and we could get you some makeup. I think you'd look great in guy-liner," Massie replied, half-teasing him. "And people would pay big money for these makeovers. We could make a fortune!"

"Yeah!" T.J. grinned with fake enthusiasm. "_Or_ we could do something a little _less_ insulting to everyone who's not you. Just a suggestion." He sneered sarcastically in his deep, Adam Sandler-ish voice.

"What? Come on, people _need_ these makeovers!" Massie argued, even though she knew they wouldn't end up doing them.

"No they don't. It's what's inside that counts." He brought his hand up to his heart, looking a little smug, probably proud of himself for teaching her a lesson on inner beauty or whatever. "What a concept, I know." He rolled his eyes after seeing her blank expression. Massie folded her arms across her chest and scoffed. _It's what's inside that counts?_ Since when did guys care about the inside? And where did he get that anyway, some cheesy Bruno Mars song?

"You know, I can just sell some of my art at the Westchester Student's Art Auction that's coming up…" T.J. stroked his slightly-dusted-with-dark-stubble chin. "But then _you_ wouldn't have anything to do."

_I can live with that_, Massie thought to herself. She would've said it out loud, but then she remembered that he didn't have to help her in the first place. "Well, we wouldn't want that, would we." She responded dryly.

"Oh, I know…you could be my artist's assistant. You know, sit in the artroom, clean the brushes, basically do whatever I say while I'm creating my masterpiece." He smirked and popped the collar of his black-and-gray plaid shirt.

"Sounds like a blast," Massie responded even more dryly. Finally, her phone beeped with a text from Isaac, saying he was there to pick her up.

After she got home—and after getting lectures on safe driving from both her parents and Isaac (though her mother was hardly one to talk)—Massie finished her algebra and chemistry homework as quickly as she could and collapsed onto her king sized bed. Her purple duvet and goose-down pillows she'd had since seventh grade sprung up around her like a taco shell.

_What an exhausting, long-ass day. _

She'd gone from joining the school paper (and actually _liking_ it, ugh) to driving for the first time and crashing the principal's car to getting asked out by one of the hottest guys in school. Hanging aroung with T.J. was like being on a freakin' rollercoaster.

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**A/N: Don't forget to review and totally make my day! :)**


	7. One of a kind artist

**A/N : Thanks for the reviews, guys! So, yeah, this is the longest chapter yet. Enjoy! :D**

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**BOCD High**

**Tuesday, September 29****th**

**3:25 p.m.**

Today was the day Massie had been dreading. She had to go to an old artroom in the school and do whatever T.J. said as he created his "art," when she could've been shopping for the perfect outfit to wear to the party. If she was going to show up with Ricky Duncan and make a certain ex jealous, she was going to have to look _beyond_ her usual fabulous self. But the party was on Saturday, and the art auction was on Friday, so of course, this would come first. She had changed into her sheepskin splatter sweats after school to look "artsy-chic" and was currently rinsing out the boar-bristled brushes at the paint-splattered steel sink, even though T.J. wasn't even _using_ the brushes.

She had to admit, it was kind of cool watching him paint. He didn't have an easel, but he was sitting at an old yellowish wooden desk that tilted the paper toward him. He had a white artist's palette on the desk next to the paper with mixed blobs of various colors of paint on it. But instead of using brushes like a normal artist, he was using his _hands_ to paint. And somehow, it looked a lot more detailed and intricate than the finger-paintings everyone does in kindergarten.

He was painting a picture of some tropical beach, and it was starting to look even more breathtaking than the reference photo he had in front of him. At first, Massie had thought there was no way he'd be able to paint something like that with his fingers. But then she noticed his fingernails were a little long for a guy, and now she knew why. He was actually using the tip of his thumbnail to etch all the intricate details into the picture, from darkening the palm fronds to capturing the reflection of the dark orange sunset in the deep, sea-blue water.

"Okay, why are you making me clean these brushes if you're not even using them?" she finally burst.

T.J. shrugged. "I gotta make you do _something_. Plus, it's kind of entertaining watching you fail at cleaning stuff," T.J. replied with a smirk.

"Ugh!" Massie threw down the brush she was holding into the sink like it was on fire. "I'm outta here," she declared, quickly proceeding to wash her hands with the apple blossom-scented anti-bacterial soap.

"No, wait…fine, I have something else you can do. After I'm done with this picture, I'll make one of you. You can sit there and model for me." He gestured to the wooden stool in front of him.

_Model?_ Now _there_ was a job she could do. "Okay," Massie smiled, trying not to sound too excited. She walked up behind him and gawked at his beach painting in admiration. All the colors and hues were blended together so perfectly; it really looked like it had been crafted by a professional artist.

"So, do you normally paint stuff like this?" she asked, trying to make conversation.

"No. This is just the stuff most people like to buy. I'm into more avant-grade stuff. You know, reflections in puddles, bleak city streets, stuff like that." He wiped a dark green glob of paint from his thumb onto a nearby newspaper and scratched his slightly-stubbly-in-a-sexy-way chin.

"Oh, cool." Massie nodded like she totally knew what avant-grade meant.

"But this is fun too," he went on. "I mean, people are suckers for nature pictures. When I went on vacation in Mexico, I talked the hotel manager into letting me sell my art in the lobby. I just painted scenes from Cancun's tourist spots, and people started buyin' them like I was Picasso or something. Some chick gave me $450 for a painting like this," he scoffed in disbelief.

"Did you tell her she lost weight?" she raised an eyebrow coolly, giving him one of her famous half-smiles. At that, T.J. had to laugh. Massie smiled back, somewhat pleased with herself. _He_ thought _she_ was funny?

"Well, something like that," he finally admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "And hey, it's not _wrong_, it's a smart business strategy." He explained with a smirk. "And I would know, since I'm gonna be a business mogul one day. That is, if my band's not famous by then. Even then, I'd still wanna own my own business."

A businessman? He actually had career aspirations? Massie had thought he'd be the guy that would roam the streets of New York City without a college degree, selling his art and getting late-night gigs at coffee shops, scraping together enough money to have a shabby apartment, where he'd invite wacky girls over that shared his sense of humor and taste in music and tell them that money didn't matter to him; he scorned materialism and was happy living his carefree life.

Yeah, she had totally pictured him as the sexy street musician that all the weird, artsy girls swooned over. Now he said he wanted to own a _business?_ T.J. was just full of surprises. And to Massie, knowing that he wanted to become successful by actually doing something with his life made him somewhat more attractive. Or maybe that was just her gold-digger side talking, Massie was pretty sure.

"Gawd, what _can't_ you do?" Massie finally asked. His list of talents was getting a little too long for her to believe. "I mean, you can sing, you can play instruments, you write songs, you study business, you're an artist _and_ a writer," she gasped for air. "What are you _nawt_ good at?"

T.J. chuckled, sounding anything but modest. "You know, I can also cook. And act. And write comic books. And—"

"I asked you what you _couldn't_ do." Massie emphasized, cutting him off. T.J. was silent for a moment. He actually had to _think_ about it? For a second she wondered if he was a vampire. _No, that's ridiculous_, she decided. If he was like Edward, he could've stopped her from crashing the car, _duh_. Gawd, she had to stop re-reading the Twilight books.

"I can't dance. Or fly a plane. Or play any sport besides hockey." He finally admitted, then paused to think again. "Actually, I'm not a bad dancer. I don't know why I said that."

When T.J. looked up from the loose thread on his paint-splattered red plaid flannel shirt he was playing with, he caught Massie's eye, and for some reason or another, both teenagers erupted in a fit of raucous laughter. Maybe it was the way T.J. recited that list with a completely straight face at the _fly a plane_ part, or maybe it was the way he was looking at Massie, almost like he felt guilty yet secretly proud of himself for being so perfect. And once they started, they couldn't stop.

It was then that Massie realized she had actually grown to appreciate his sense of humor. She couldn't help but compare him to her exes, since they were all funny. Chris Abely was funny in a conventional boyishly charming way, Landon was witty, much like her, and Derrick was goofy and unpredictable. T.J. was just…something else. That's when it dawned on her; they were actually having a decent conversation. Maybe T.J. wasn't so bad.

"Hey, Massie," he began as he tried to calm his laughter. "Why're we still laughing?" he chuckled again, watching her with amused eyes, probably wondering what the hell just happened.

Massie just shook her head, smiling contentedly. T.J. looked really cute just then; probably because he wasn't being all cocky and annoying as usual. She had to dig her nails into her palms to stop herself from giggling like crazy. Her heart rushed to her throat in elation, and she suddenly felt the urge to throw her arms around him and—no, scratch that. The urge was getting stronger…now she just wanted to grab him by the collar and crash her fully glossed lips onto his slightly chapped ones. She wanted his pale, dry paint-stained hands all over her; she wanted her tan, manicured fingers running through his scruffy hair; she just wanted _him_. For some reason, he made her ridiculously happy sometimes.

Did that mean she was falling for him? _Oh, hell no, _Massie thought. That was just her hormones acting up…it happened every so often, like whenever one of her guy friends said something super-nice or flirty to her (not that she had many guy friends)…but she'd even fantasized about her (relatively) young and good-looking English teacher once or twice. So she was used to it; it was totally no big deal. It didn't mean she liked the guy; she was just jacked up on hormones or whatever. It was just one of those times when she felt like she could jump the first guy she saw. It definitely didn't mean anything. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if T.J. was feeling the sexual tension between them as much as she was.

_Probably nawt_, considering the fact that he had shifted his attention to making sure his tropical masterpiece was finished.

"So, I guess I'm done with this one. Now I'll do you." He mused. _Oh, what an unfortunate coincidental pairing of words._ "In picture form, I mean." He said quickly, before his big blue eyes grew any wider. Massie grinned. _Oh, he was totally feeling it too._

"Yeah, I was wondering what you meant there," Massie responded sarcastically, suppressing the urge to giggle hysterically.

T.J. rolled his eyes, seeming over it. "Whatever, just go sit on that stool." He gestured to the wooden stool in front of him. _Yes_, Massie thought. Sitting down would be perfect right now; she was starting to get a little weak in the knees anyways. She pulled off her splatter sweatshirt, revealing her YASB teal knit silver-ring halter tie top and smoothed her dark brown hair down. Not for T.J. or anything, she just didn't want her splatter sweats and messy hair in the picture of her.

T.J. was completely silent as he worked, probably because the right side of the brain is used for making conversation, but it's also used to work on art or anything creative, so if someone was really focused on their art, they wouldn't talk. Or something like that. At least that was what her art teacher said when she took Drawing 1 at school for her applied arts credit.

Massie couldn't help feeling a little weird as he scrutinized her, so she kept looking anywhere but his eyes. It felt a little like she was fighting the canvas for his attention when he looked back and forth between them. Not that she really wanted him staring at her like that…but still. There were a few times when he looked at her, and kinda chuckled or smiled, then looked back at his canvas, continuing to draw. _What the hell was up with that? _Did she have something on her face? She desperately wanted to pullout her compact mirror and check, but she didn't want to look insecure. _Was he making the picture hideous? _Gawd, she hoped not. Thankfully, T.J. started blasting music from his iPhone after a few excruciatingly long minutes, and Massie felt herself relax.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the artist finished the painting. "'Kay, I think I'm done," T.J. leaned back in his chair and stretched out his arms.

"Oh, cool!" Massie tried not to sound too relieved. "Lemme see!" she hopped off the stool and walked around his tilted wooden desk. What she saw next nearly made her heart stop beating. She was pretty sure she couldn't breathe for a few seconds, because this was the most stunningly amazing thing she'd ever seen. It was like looking in the mirror, only better. He had made her a freaking _goddess_.

There was really no way to describe it's magnificence, except that she felt like she was in one of those cartoons where the characters find some coveted buried treasure, and when they open it, they see a warm golden glow all around the treasure chest. You see their awestruck expressions, but you never actually see what's inside. She was finally witnessing her treasure.

She wanted to tell him that this was the most amazing work of art she'd ever seen. She wanted to tell him to call an art director to put it in a museum, because that's where it belonged. She wanted to tell him to forget his business plans; he was gonna be the next Picasso or Da Vinci or whatever. But she just couldn't find the words. Maybe she was over-marveling at it because it was a picture of _her_, Massie finally realized. If he'd drawn Megan Fox or Duh-Livia or someone, she would have stuck her nose up, called it a whore and walked away. But this was a picture of _her_, and it was absolutely perfect.

"Ehmagawd, that looks ah-mazing," she finally gushed. "What're you gonna call that?"

"Bitch from Hell," he responded with a straight face. But when he looked up and saw her priceless insulted expression, he couldn't help letting out his stifled laugh.

"You _jerk!_" Massie smacked his arm and grabbed the back of paint-splattered shirt, trying desperately to forget her previous fantasies.

"Ahh, I was just kidding, it was a joke!" T.J. laugh-winced, trying to shield himself from her flimsy punches.

"I don't like jokes." Massie whined, crossing her arms, her full pink lips in a glossy pout.

"I don't like _you_." T.J. mock-whined, straightening the collar of his red flannel shirt. Massie sighed. It wasn't too often you heard that from a guy who had just painted the most amazing portrait of you. Speaking of which, it really was an amazing picture…one that she really wanted to keep.

"Whatever. So…can I have that?" Massie gazed at the picture again.

"What? No! I'm gonna sell it…that was kind of the point." T.J. got up and set his painting on the drying rack.

Massie was about to ask who the hell would buy a picture of her, but decided to not ask something so LBR-ishly insecure.

"I'll buy it from you," she volunteered.

"It can't be _your_ money, we have to earn it. Plus, I think this could be the next Mona Lisa. Either that or some kid that likes you will buy it from me at the art auction." T.J. shrugged, smiling knowingly.

_Well, wouldn't that be great. _

Massie gritted her teeth. She wasn't about to let this go. "Well, can't you make me another one?" she demanded.

"Yeah, I don't think so. I'm a one-of-a-kind artist. No two pieces are the same," he explained, holding his hand over his heart in mock-wisdom. Okay, now he was just trying to irritate her.

"Oh, come on! Massie wheedled, trying to get him to cave. "You make this amazing picture of me, and now I can't even have it? That's such a—"

"Okay, okay, I'll make another one!" T.J. held his hands up in frustration. "Real quick, okay? Go sit down."

"Okay," Massie smiled. _She was good._

He grabbed a fresh piece of off-white paper from his artist's sketchbook and a charcoal shading pencil. _Wait, a pencil?_ He was gonna draw her this time, not paint? Massie really preferred the full-color painting, but maybe a detailed sketch would be cool. After what seemed like five minutes, T.J. started packing up his things and getting ready to leave.

"Wait, are you already done?" Massie asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, goes faster the second time," T.J. explained hastily. "Well, here. You enjoy that," he grinned, handing it to her and slipping out the door. A muffled "see ya!" was heard from down the hall.

Massie rolled her eyes at his odd behavior and flipped over the thick off-white paper in her hands, gasping in mild outrage at what she saw. It was a caricature-type cartoon of her that made fun of her in every way possible for a drawing. _How had she nawt seen this coming?_ She would have punched him again, but he was already gone (now she knew why), and she wasn't about to try and catch up to him.

She glared at the picture in her hands again. Her head was gigantic in proportion to the rest of her body, and her lips took up half her face, dripping with blobs of shiny gloss. She was also wearing impossibly high stiletto heels, clothes with designer labels stamped all over them, and a jewel-encrusted jester crown that had rays coming out of it. She had this crazed evil look in her eyes like she was about to start breathing fire or shooting out lightening. Actually, the lightening was right in there. She was smirking in an I'm-so-much-better-than-everyone else-and-I-know-it sort of way, and she had a little speech bubble over her head that read "Bow down and kiss mah-assie!" _Did he seriously think this was funny?_ It was so _nawt!_ And more importantly, was this really how he saw her? Was this how everyone saw her?

Massie was still questioning her image as she walked out of the artroom and down the hallway that led outside. She knew T.J. was just joking around when he drew that, but she couldn't help taking it a little personally. For the first time in her life, she wondered if being the most popular (and sometimes mean) girl at school really was a good thing. She had always been happy and proud to be the alpha, but ever since high school had started, the pressure of keeping up her reputation had majorly intensified.

…

As soon as Massie stepped outside, she had to shield her eyes from the sun's blinding rays. It was almost four, so Issac should be at the door in a few minutes like he was instructed. Massie looked around on the school's spacious grounds for someone to hang out with until he got there, but the only people she saw were random LBR's from the Green Earth club bringing out recycling bins. She could also hear the school's marching band practicing somewhere outside, but there was no one she could actually be seen talking to. There wasn't an A-or-B-lister in sight.

She was about to pull out her iPhone and pretend to look busy when a flash of firey red hair caught her eye. She looked up and spotted Dylan at the bike rack, pressed up against some guy in what looked like a heavy makeout session. _What? _She never said she had a boyfriend! Massie stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a better look at the guy, and suddenly realized what Dylan was trying to hide. A wave of pain ached through her body as she watched him pull away from her to shake his dirty-blond hair and offer her a seat on his bike. She remembered when _she_ was the one riding on the back of that bike with him.

Massie bit down hard on her lower lip, feeling the urge to draw blood as they took off on his bike, not even noticing her presence. She angrily sat down on a nearby bench and surge of questions flooded her head. _How long had this been going on? _Why hadn't Dylan just _asked_ her if she could date Derrington? Wasn't he dating some other girl? Or was that just a cover? Massie knew Dylan had liked Derrington a long time ago, but hadn't she gotten over him? _Obviously nawt! _Massie put her head in her hands.

After the seemingly endless questions had ceased, the image of them together started replaying in her head like some kind of heart-wrenching slideshow. She felt a deep pang in her stomach and hot tears stung at the brims of her eyes, but she didn't dare let them spill over. She wouldn't let them reduce her to crying in front of _anyone_ but Bean. She blinked back her tears and let her eyes flutter shut. She wished someone was there to comfort her. Normally, she didn't want anyone to see her in a weak state, but right now she was feeling especially vulnerable.

She even wished that T.J. had stuck around a little longer, so he could put his arm around her and tell her that Derrick was an idiot for not staying with her, and she deserved better than him. Okay, he probably wouldn't say that. But he'd say _something_, and Massie felt like he'd know what to say. _No_, Massie thought after a minute of fantasizing about being in his comforting arms. _She didn't want him to see her like this, either. _

After Issac pulled up in the Range Rover, Massie picked up her bag and gravely got in the car. Dylan and Derrington were _so_ dead to her. Everyone knew you weren't supposed to date your best friends ex…or your ex's best friend. This was like, the ultimate betrayal. Saturday, at the party, she _would_ get her revenge.

* * *

**A/N: Gosh, writing this story makes me wish I had a T.J. ;) Anyone else feel like that? Hopefully, I'm not the only one. :) Review!**


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